CHAPTER 4: SURVIVING THE CAMBODIAN GENOCIDE [1975-1979]

On April 16, 1975, the United States evacuated the U.S. embassy in Phnom Penh and ended the America’s six year war in Cambodia against the Vietnamese communists. The world had abandoned Cambodia to its faith. At dawn on April 17, the Khmer Rouge entered Phnom Penh. For a brief moment, there was a sense of hope and celebration with people taking to the streets cheering for peace. However, the celebration was short lived as the Khmer Rouge showed their true colors with the forced evacuation of the city’s 2.5 million people in the afternoon.

The Khmer Rouge announced over loudspeakers for everyone to evacuate immediately as bombing from the Americans was imminent and that this evacuation would only last three days. From inside our townhouse, we could hear the announcement along with the crowded people's chaotic noise intermingled with gunshots and explosions. The Khmer Rouge were going door to door to force everyone to evacuate. Those that did not comply were shot or blown up by their grenades. My father reluctantly opened the door to a small group of young Khmer Rouge men dressed in black pajamas. They threatened to shoot if we did not leave immediately. My father immediately gathered his family along with our emergency food cart containing rice bags, salt, water, portable pot and pan, and medical kits. It was normal for most families to prepare an emergency food kit due to the war and constant American bombings. Once outside, we were forced to march with the crowd of hundreds of thousands of evacuees. It was very chaotic as we tried to integrate and move with the crowds. The Khmer Rouge blocked off almost all routes of egress and enforced where people needed to march. We continued to march in the mass evacuation for three days within the city. Those that did not comply with their demands were shot. This was the Khmer Rouge’s tactic of instilling fear amidst the chaos and controlling traffic as they transported the 2.5 million city dwellers by small boats to the countryside. During these three days of mass evacuation, no one was spared and many people, including the wounded and ill prepared evacuees, died. Some died from gunshots and explosions, while others such as the sick, the wounded, and the elderly perished due to the scorching heat, as April is usually the hottest month of the year. At a young age, I witnessed a lot of dead people. The Khmer Rouge then forced people to board onto crowded boats that took the city dwellers to various places deep within the countryside. The map below illustrates the city evacuation routes across Cambodia. The mass evacuation in Phnom Penh is ranked at number 1 in the Top 10 Cruel Death Marches from Modern History according to NewsTrack website's Death March Ranking.

﻿My family was taken, along with many others, on the Mekong River toward the southern routes. Once on land, the Khmer Rouge split us into smaller groups. Our group of about 60 families walked several days to reach a small village close to the Vietnamese border. This village had been prepared for our arrival with pre-built straw huts. Each family was placed in a tiny straw hut. The huts were poorly built with water dripping everywhere when it rained and were empty with no bed or any other furniture. We slept on the dirt floor and made our home accordingly based on what we were able to transport from Phnom Penh. The village leader held a meeting that everyone must attend. At the meeting, he called us “new people” and said that we belonged to Angka under his command. We must do what Angka tells us to do. We must obey Angka. The city dwellers were considered “new people” who represented the evils of capitalism and the Khmer Rouge believed that the “old people” or peasants were the only productive members of the new society. Angka is the faceless “Organization” that we must obey. There were nightly propaganda meetings to spread the Khmer Rouge ideology.

﻿The Khmer Rouge forced us all to work immediately. The adults worked on preparing the dikes in the rice fields and planting rice. The kids, including my brother and me, attended to the water buffaloes used for plowing the rice fields and at times we acted as human scarecrow in the rice fields during harvesting. We were also forced to carry bundles of rice straw. My older sister attended to my baby sister. The Khmer Rouge forced us to work every day from early morning to late at night. This was especially difficult for my father as he had been accustomed to the well-to-do city life. My father realized he had no choice but to force himself to adapt quickly. He managed to blend in as a peasant worker but with great difficulty. My mother, on the other hand, is a tough lady who blended into the peasant work life seamlessly and almost immediately. Some city dwellers who did not perform or had difficulty adapting to the peasant life were disciplined, sometimes severely with some not given any food. The kids, including my brother and me, adapted quickly to the daily tasks. For food, each person was given a small cup of rice per day. When receiving the cup of rice from the Khmer Rouge, they would look at you and if they didn't like you for any reason they would brush their index finger inward across the cup, thus giving you less rice. Since there was not enough rice to begin with, this made a huge difference in our ability to adequately survive. But we were in no position to complain or in any way dare to even look at the Khmer Rouge, for we might not get any rice at all or even punished. So we always kept our head down and showed appreciation. Complete obedience was what we learned over time to survive. This perpetrating of hatred by the Khmer Rouge seemed to always happen to my family and other ethnic background families such as the Vietnamese and the Chinese. Perhaps, there was something about my parents that they did not like. Early on, the Khmer Rouge allowed us to supplement our food by giving each of the family members written permission to walk to a neighboring village to seek out additional food once per week from the “old people” or local peasants. The neighboring village was about 6km away. It was always my mother, brother, and me who made this weekly trip. Once in the village, we went door to door asking for rice, salt, chicken, cooking oil, vegetables or anything they could spare to help us. However, some of the peasants were extremely rude to us because they resented the “new people” or city folks. But we did find some pockets of peasants that were kind and willing to help us and others with whatever they could. Sometimes we received only some rice or vegetables but other times we were lucky and were given some parts of a chicken.

Youth Work Camp

Youth Work Camp

As time passed, my parents realized things were getting worse. Previously, my father and my mother had lied to the Khmer Rouge by stating he was a simple car driver for a delivery company and she was a simple peasant girl who migrated to Phnom Penh to work as a seamstress, respectively. My father was ready to prove that he could drive a car or truck if they should test him, knowing that owning a car at the time was considered a privilege and might get him and his family killed. Similarly, my mother was a natural with a knack for picking up new skills rather quickly as the Khmer Rouge had already observed her ability to perform and endure long hours in the rice paddies. My parents had witnessed two Vietnamese families taken away by the Khmer Rouge, likely to be executed. Living with this fear, my parents ingrained in all of us that we were not rich when we lived in Phnom Penh and that Dad was a simple car driver for a delivery company, and mom was a seamstress from the countryside who had migrated to Phnom Penh from a nearby village. We're Cambodian and all of us were born in Phnom Penh. My parents further told us that they couldn't read or write and had held brainless jobs. My mother made us repeat these stories until we believed them. My mother wanted to ensure that if the Khmer Rouge should question any one of her children regarding our status and past, we would be consistent in our answers as any deviation could get us all killed. Sure enough, one night Angka called a meeting with the children only. In the meeting, they said that Angka loved us and that we were the future of Angka. They encouraged us to report on our parents and if they were or had been wealthy, educated, doctors, lawyers, teachers, business owners, etc. Angka said if you did, you would be rewarded with food. My siblings and I remembered what our mother had told us and kept quiet with our heads looking downward. There were some children that proudly stood up and informed on their parents. Little did they know, as we were all just kids, that they were sending their parents and themselves to the killing fields. My father never finished high school as he had to drop out to support his family as his father became ill. My mother also did not finish high school. So all goes well with the stories inculcated in us by our parents, which proved to be a blessing to help us survive. The Khmer Rouge had started their deadly purging campaign of the educated, the wealthy, professionals such as doctors, lawyers, and teachers; artists; all religious persons including Buddhist monks; anyone with ties to the previous Lon Nol government; anyone able to read or write; and the minority ethnic groups such as the Vietnamese, the Cham Muslims, and the Chinese. The best and brightest of Cambodia were systematically killed and buried in mass graves known as the Killing Fields.

On one occasion, late in the evening, a small group of Khmer Rouge came to our hut house to question my father and perhaps prepared to take our entire family away. It was based on an accusation made by a young boy who said that he had been with my father earlier in the evening when he was caught stealing raw rice grain in the rice fields, and the adult that was with him had got away. My father was in shock and speechless. After composing himself and knowing this was very serious, he politely said this is absolutely not true as he and his family were just at the village's nightly meeting when he was alleged to have been with he boy caught stealing. The Khmer Rouge replied loudly, kids never lie. My father politely but nervously asked them to check with the village leader that he saw us at his gathering. Luckily, our story checked out and we were spared. Nevertheless, we continued to live in constant fear. A few months later once the rice fields were harvested, the Khmer Rouge forced everyone in the village to move to another village. We walked for a day then were transported by boat and rail to Battambang. From Battambang, we walked for several days to reach a remote jungle village near Phnom Proek, close to the Thai border. Along the way, some people were left to die from illness caused by exhaustion and lack of food. All the new comers were forced to either live with an existing family in the same crowded hut or on the bottom of an existing family hut, if it was a raised hut house. We were placed at the bottom of a raised hut house because there were six of us. My parents were split up into separate work groups. My older sister was allowed to care for her baby sister. My brother and I were taken along with other kids to a youth labor camp. I had just reached my seventh birthday. My mother desperately pleaded with the Khmer Rouge to allow me to stay with her but they forcibly pushed her aside and threatened to beat her.

At the youth labor camp, we were told that we no longer needed our parents and that we belonged to Angka. The labor camp had a couple hundred children. There were multiple common housing complexes where they separated the boys and the girls into different housing complexes to live. They further separated the children into groups of 15 to 20. Each group was headed by a young Khmer Rouge soldier in his or her teens. My brother and I were placed in separate work groups and separate living quarters as the concept of family was strictly prohibited. There were no beds, no blankets, and not enough space for us to adequately move around during the day. At night, we slept on the wooden floor in an open area crowded with children. I remember getting frequent wooden tick or insect bites at night. None of us were allowed to talk to one another. Each one of us lived in a world of silence amongst the other children. I was extremely scared and yet forced to grow up to look after myself. We were driven hard, forced to wake up at 5 o'clock in the morning to start our work day. In the beginning there were some of us that had a hard time getting up so early in the morning and would cry. After being disciplined with bamboo sticks, we never cried or complained again. At such a young age, I missed my mother dearly but I was too frightened to cry or show any emotion. I kept to myself and followed the rules to survive. I was always quiet and kept my head down and never looked at the young cadres or the Khmer Rouge directly in order to avoid provoking them or giving them a reason to punish me. Some kids were punished for no reason at all. Punishments would range from being pushed and belittled to not given any food. I lived in constant fear and would experience high anxiety at the sight of the Khmer Rouge or their designated cadres. We were forced to work in the rice field and carrying the wheat, fertilizing the rice field, building small water reservoirs, and planting rice. There was nightly propaganda meeting by the Khmer Rouge where they continued to brainwash all of us. We received two meals per day, one at lunch and one at dinner. The meal was nothing more than a small bowl of watery rice porridge. As time passed, each bowl of rice porridge became more and more watery. At night, I felt lonely but more importantly, I missed my mother dearly. They kept my older brother away from me as the concept of family was not allowed. I felt dirty, tired, and cold at night to worry or have experienced any real discomfort. I was also incessantly hungry most of the time. I felt sad and discouraged as time passed.

The Khmer Rouge promoted the children who were truly from the “old” peasant families to the position of cadres. They served as guards who kept an eye on all of us throughout the day. These ignorant young cadres were the dangerous ones as they enjoyed their new found power over us the “new” city dweller children and would report and punish us for the slightest infraction and at times for absolutely no reason whatsoever. They made it very difficult for me to seek out my older brother and since the concept of family had been abandoned along with talking and gathering, it was impossible to get close to anyone. In fact, I pretended not to notice my brother when I did see him occasionally from afar. I was too afraid of getting caught and punished to even think about disobeying. I lived in constant fear. So I learned to keep to myself. One evening, the Khmer Rouge and the newly promoted young cadres threw us a celebration. In that they provided us all the watery rice porridge that we could eat. Needless to say, since I was very hungry I ate a tremendous amount very quickly to the point that I felt sick. In fact, some of the children got so sick from over eating that they threw up. This, in turn, caused the Khmer Rouge to punish them severely. The punishment started with being whipped by bamboo sticks followed by group kicking and screaming. It was all a fun game to the Khmer Rouge. After the first group of kids were punished and humiliated in front of everyone, I was desperately trying to control myself. The anxiety and sense of panic I experienced from the situation must have helped me to control the urge to throw up. I think this was also the case for the majority of the children that evening. In the end, this was just a game to the Khmer Rouge.

My older brother had been casually observing me from afar. One evening before the nightly propaganda meeting, he abruptly came to me and asked me to stay close to him after the meeting. He had been looking into areas where we could possibly breakout without causing too much of a distraction. On our way back to the housing complexes after the meeting had finished, he grabbed me and we jumped into the tall bushes. Some kids noticed our breakaway but did not alert the Khmer Rouge or cadres, as they had been taught to keep to themselves as well. We hid in the tall bushes until everyone returned to the housing complexes. He quietly whispered to me that we would be running back to the village to see Mom and Dad. When I heard that, I could not be more excited. It was the first time in a long time that I had been so thrilled. He asked me to be very quiet. Then he got up and just as he was out of the bush, a cadre spotted him and he took off running. I was still hiding behind the bushes and extremely scared. I did not know what to do other than to continue hiding in the same spot, hoping my brother would return for me. I had never felt more alone and scared. I had a panic attack which caused me to almost pass out. I waited and waited but he never returned. After quite some time, it was very quiet, and I thought that they all must be asleep. I still didn't know what to do. Then I thought of looking for my brother which gave me the courage to come out from behind the bushes. I made my way to his housing complex which was built elevated off the ground. The water level underneath the housing complex was up to my chest. In the dark, I made my way back and forth peeping through the cracks in the wooden floor looking for my brother. I finally found him tied up in a corner post. He had been beaten and had a bloody face. Through the crack I could see him and I whispered to get his attention. He finally opened his eyes and saw me. We stared at each other in silence for a long while. Then, with a sad expression on his face, he instructed me to go on my own to see Mom. I nodded my head and reluctantly moved away, floating toward the back of the housing complex and into the bushes. On the other side of the bush, I ran into another run-away. She was an older girl. I was very happy to see her. She did not talk to me but signaled for me to be quiet and to stay put. I obeyed and quietly hid beside her. We must have waited until dawn before she finally decided it was safe for us to start our journey. We walked together for quite some time before we splitting-up and going to different villages.

Rice Straw

I was on my own again but it didn't matter as I was very tired, weak, and extremely hungry. On my way, I came across some rice fields and without hesitation; I went into the rice field immediately and started to pull and eat the raw rice wheat. I kept on eating and eating until I heard someone screamed at me. Then I realized it was someone guarding the rice fields. I took off immediately, running as fast as I could inside the rice field. I kept on running until I was out of the rice field. I looked back and realized I was no longer being chased. I continued walking until I came across a small river that I had to cross. I started to cross the river slowly and as I reached the middle of the river the water was up to my shoulders. Given that I was very tired, hungry, and weak, the slight water current carried me away. I was struggling as the current pushed me further down the stream. Not knowing how far the current had carried me downstream, I came to a stop as I was tangled in a fishing net. I was literally drowning at this point. Then a fisherman, the one who had setup the fishing net, came and pulled me out of the water. He was angry as I had ruined his chance of catching any fish and worse had damaged his fishing net. I was on the ground catching my breath. The old man had nothing on him except a bucket with a few fish. He took pity on me and reached down to his bucket for a small fish and broke it in half, instantly killing the fish. He handed me the fish and said to eat it. I ate the whole fish including the head and anything else I could chew or swallow. After this, I looked at him and nodded my head as a gesture of thanks to him. In an angry tone, he told me to go on my way. I took off running and headed toward the village to find my mother. Once in the village, I found my sisters at home. I was happy to hear that both my parents are still alive, working in the rice fields. In the evening, when my parents returned I was very happy to see them, especially my mother. I felt safe and secure for the time being. I explained to my parents what had happened to my brother and me. They were sad to hear about my brother but at the same time were happy to hear that he is alive. They did not discuss with me what food they had been eating which turned out to be practically nothing. That evening, my father quietly went outside our living area as he had found a rat hole. He reached his hand inside and pulled out a tiny baby mouse that had just been born. He put it in his mouth and swallowed it. He continued with the second baby mouse. I could see the extreme exhaustion in my father’s face. He had become very skinny and bony. This was starvation at the extreme so we all did not hesitate to eat anything to survive. My mother continued to be a strong lady, doing whatever was necessary to take care of her family. The next day, my parents went to work just like they normally would, very early in the morning. At daylight, the village leader came for me. He and other screamed, pushed and kicked at me. He said I did not belong here and questioned why I had returned. But no matter, he said they would punish me. His cadres took me back to the youth labor camp. Back at the camp, they made an example out of me so that others will think twice about trying to escape. They tied me to the tree and whipped me with a bamboo stick a few times and announced that this would happen to whoever tried to escape. I was emotionless and somewhat defiant as they whipped me. They left me there without food and water. It felt like an eternity but it was probably no more than half a day.

I survived but they kept a close eye on me; they picked on me and frequently forced me to do extra work, usually around the youth housing complex area. By then I was an emotionless and numb individual with no hope. I stopped thinking and daydreaming; it was like I was a living zombie. As time passed, all of us were getting weaker and weaker by the hour. With the production drop in rice harvesting, the Khmer Rouge dramatically cut down our rice consumption. Most of the time, we were only given one meal a day which was mostly water and sometimes we were given no meal at all. We all had a large bony head, a skinny body where you could see our bones and a bloated stomach (click to see example picture). The children started to die in large numbers from starvation and disease. Some died overnight in their sleep, some died in the work field, and some just collapsed and died. The starvation caused the children to develop diarrhea and disease due to vitamin deficiencies. I was often forced to clean up the sleeping area from the deaths and diarrhea. Both of my legs were swollen and my lower left ankle area was severely infected with disease. To this day, it has left a nasty marks on my lower left leg. Toward the end, most of us were laying or sitting on the floor with no strength and simply waiting to die.

On January 7, 1979, the Khmer Rouge was overthrown by the Vietnamese Army. If this had been delayed by a couple of more days, I think I would have died of starvation as would have many of the other children at the youth labor camp. On this day, my older brother and I found each other at the labor camp. The Khmer Rouge had retreated to the remote areas and all the children who had survived, including my brother and me, immediately took off to each of our respective villages to find their families. The excitement and hope of freedom gave us all strength as we all looked forward to seeing our parents. Shortly after, foreign journalists and reporters descended onto Phnom Penh, Cambodia to cover the fall of the Khmer Rouge and their shocking discovery. Here is an account from one of the early journalists: